A Young John Thornton
by Jayne DLM
Summary: Inspired by the BBC mini-series North and South (2004). This is a glimpse into the life of a younger John Thornton and examines the time of his life that changes him forever. In this story I focus on John who transitions from a child to the head of the Thornton family as a result of his fathers suicide. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1 - Coming Home

The North and South story line really inspired me to write about John's past. I would love to hear your thoughts/reviews.

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Prequel – A young John Thornton Part 1

The whistle of the train sounded as a young John Thornton waited on the platform for his train that would take him from boarding school back home. He was dressed in his full school uniform, with not one hair out of place. He had dark hair, a strong jaw line, and, while tall for his age, he had not broadened out and could even be described as thin. However when looking at the young man, his confidence seemed to radiate around him.

It was true that John had a strong feeling of self-importance which can only be described as coming from his upbringing. He had never wanted for anything and had led a privileged life.

His father, Mr Thornton, came from a wealthy northern family and was known for being a very proud and shrewd business man. He carried himself with an air of arrogance and had an intimidating way about him.

He was a tall man with black hair, broad shoulders, and cold piercing eyes. He was known as a cut throat businessman and did whatever it took to get what he wanted in business (with no concern for those who may be affected). He had little to no respect for those who worked under him, and believed that he was entitled to act like this because he was better.

He was generally stern in how he spoke to his son, with little laughter or warmth between the two. He was also very forthright in his expectations of his son, and had emphasised how important it was that John continue the prestigious Thornton legacy and the family business.

This pressure was not lost on young John, but as any young man, he looked up to his father and yearned to make him proud. So as such, he made a conscious effort to try and model his father despite his misgivings about him.

In contrast, John's relationship with his mother Mrs Thornton was much different. She loved young John fiercely and he knew this. She was the source of warmth and comfort in his world. There was not one thing she would not do for him and he knew this. She was his safe haven.

Mrs Thornton imparted wisdom, a sound work ethic and good morals onto young John. She too had come from a wealthy northern family, but valued hard work above all else. She had little time for non-sense or tomfoolery. She had no trouble in correcting John when he stepped out of line and it was thanks to her that he was (at all) grounded.

Truth be told, her marriage to Mr Thornton was a marriage of convenience not love. She had not known a true romantic love, and her stern exterior developed over time as a defence mechanism against her cold husband.

While there was a sense of partnership between the two, the build-up of ice between them over the years could not be melted by 1000 candles.

It was only John who made her heart melt.

At the train station, John thought about when he was home last which felt like an eternity ago. He felt conflicted. While he did not enjoy his father's harsh temper in the slightest but he had a strong sense of loyalty towards his mother and didn't like the idea of her being home without him.

As he stood there, with the train slowing down for boarding, a conversation from his last trip home kept ringing in his ears. His father and mother were having an argument (which was not unusual) about money. His mother stated that Mr Thornton was being foolish and selfish with an investment. Even in his young days John knew that you could only gamble what you could afford to lose. He had this deep unrelenting feeling in his gut that wouldn't go away. The kind that if you try and ignore it, the feeling only gets more intense.

He shook his head, as if to get rid of the nonsense floating around his head and boarded the train with a questionable anticipation for his arrival home.


	2. Chapter 2 - The Incident

The North and South story line really inspired me to write about John's past. I would love to hear your thoughts/reviews.

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Prequel – A young John Thornton Part 2

He shook his head, as if to get rid of the non- sense floating around his head and boarded the train with a questionable anticipation for his arrival home.

The young John Thornton was now bored. He had been on the train for ages and thought that perhaps this was the most boring trip of his whole life. He was fidgeting, swinging his legs from under the seat and letting out the occasional sigh or groan. It was the kind of behaviour that you would expect from any restless and impatient boy. While John was tall for his age, he still was just that, a boy.

The chaperone Robert who accompanied John on all train trips to and from school was sitting on the opposite seat in the carriage and watched John with some amusement.

"Are you well young Master?" Robert queried. "I am well sir, I am just so bored and want to get off this train, why must time run so slowly?" he answered with a whingey tone as he threw his head against the back of the padded seat in frustration. "I am not quite sure young Master. Perhaps if you read a book it might make the time go faster". John looked up at his chaperone with a raised eyebrow and shook his head "No, I have spent the last few months in study, no books for me, I intend to enjoy my time away from schooling". It was clear to Robert that John did not place a high value on his education or more to the fact, he took it for granted. "What subjects do you enjoy at school?" Robert asked, trying to make polite conversation. "I like arithmetic best". "Why is that your favourite subject?" "Well you see sir, in arithmetic you are either correct or incorrect. In writing class, I never know whether my hand is good enough for the teacher and seem to always be in trouble". As John spoke he rubbed the back of his legs where the latest mark from punishment resided.

Letting out a big sigh he resigned to resting his head against the window and just watched as the world seemed to pass him by.

It took some time but John finally started to recognise the scenery around him. Milton and its outskirts really did have a particular look about it. There seemed to be a slight tinge of smoke in the air. The landscape changed from being full of lush greenery and open fields to one that appeared a little more rugged with dense forests surrounding the town.

He stepped off the train and was immediately greeted by the porter who guided him to the family's horse drawn carriage. It was late afternoon and the cold chill in the air seemed to intensify in the many shadows that were creeping across the cobbled streets. He shivered as he got into the carriage and started the last leg of his journey home.

Upon arriving home, he was greeted by his mother who was obviously glad to see him. "Hello John" she said warmly as she wrapped her arms around his thin frame and gave him a big hug. John smiled listening to his mother's voice and thick northern accept. How he missed her voice. There was something in the way she spoke that gave him comfort and put him at ease, something that made him feel like he did not have to pretend. She then put her hands around his face as if to examine him. Looking into her sons eyes she was struck by the fact that she was almost able to look at him face to face. "My god my boy, how you have grown!". Noticing his thin frame she laughed "Although there still isn't much of you boy. We had better fetch you some food".

The servant who stood almost invisibly in the side of the room took this cue and left the room to get some food.

Mrs Thornton and John sat down at the table as the servant very efficiently served John a warm broth with some bread and butter on the side. Mrs Thornton smiled to herself as she watched her son practically inhale a broth. "John it would be pertinent to try and take a breath in between mouthfuls. I do not wish to have to call the doctor because you have fallen ill".

As they sat in silence, Mrs Thornton's attention was diverted she heard her baby girl Fanny start to cry from the other room. "Excuse me John, I had better go and attend to your sister. Now mind what I say and do not eat your food too quickly".

John found himself annoyed at his baby sister for interrupting. Truth be told, since Fanny was born he had been jealous of her and did not always demonstrate the brotherly patience that was expected of him. He could hear Fanny in the background crying and his mother's footsteps on the wooden floor, walking from one end of the room to the other.

John finished his meal relatively quickly and relocated to sit in his father's arm chair which sat in the best position right in front of the warm fireplace. He sat by the fireplace, listening to the crackling sound of the fire and becoming transfixed by the mysterious shapes that the fire made. He felt his eyes become heavy and before he knew it, young John had drifted off into a deep sleep and slept for hours.

*CRASH*

John woke with a sudden jolt with his heart racing a million miles an hour. He looked wide eyed to the other room, where he heard the loud crash come from.

He then heard yelling. "Woman! How dare you". He recognised that sound of that voice all too well. It was his father. John cautiously stood up, scared but intent on seeing what was happening. There was a young female servant standing in the same room as him, frozen by what was happening in the other room, standing stiffly and afraid to move. She whispered to John desperately "young Master, do not go near there, go to your room". John ignored her and quietly made his way to the door which was slightly ajar.

He then heard a big thud. Peering through the small crack in the door, John could see the shadow of his father's overbearing figure standing over his mother who lay on the ground obviously in pain. His father was clearly drunk and was swaying on the spot ever so slightly. John's jaw dropped. While he had witnessed his father in a drunken rage before, he had never seen it this bad. Mrs Thornton pushed off the floor with her hands to get herself back up. With tears in her eyes she defiantly stared up at her husband and in a calm but bitter tone she said "You are a pathetic man". Clearly enraged by this defiance, Mr Thornton grabbed Mrs Thornton with one hand by the throat and threw her up against the wall. "You are never to speak to me like that again". He kept his hand around Mrs Thornton's neck with a tight grip. Her eyes grew wider in panic as she struggled to breath and her face grew red. She made muffled sounds but was unable to do much else under the power of his unrelenting hand. Mr Thornton then raised his right fist in rage.

Right at this moment, young John barged into the room full force and tackled his father as hard as his strength would allow him. Mr Thornton glanced to the side, surprised to see a flash of his son flying towards him. The next thing he knew, they had collided and had fallen to the ground. John did not know where that strength came from. All he knew was that he had to protect his mother. Mr Thornton lay on the ground, as if the wind had been knocked out of him, his world spinning. John stood up and yelled "Don't you ever do that again". He quickly looked up to check that his mother was alright. She stood still, still shaken from her husband raising a hand to her, her eyes expressed a pride in her son, but behind that pride was fear for John, and what repercussions there would be for this act of defending her.


	3. Chapter 3 - Calm Before The Storm?

_Right at this moment, young John barged into the room full force and tackled his father as hard as his strength would allow him. Mr Thornton glanced to the side, surprised to see a flash of his son flying towards him. The next thing he knew, they had collided and had fallen to the ground. John did not know where that strength came from. All he knew was that he had to protect his mother. Mr Thornton lay on the ground, as if the wind had been knocked out of him, his world spinning. John stood up and yelled "Don't you ever do that again". He quickly looked up to check that his mother was alright. She stood still, still shaken from her husband raising a hand to her, her eyes expressed a pride in her son, but behind that pride was fear for John, and what repercussions there would be for this act of defending her._

**Prequel – A young John Thornton**

**Chapter 3**

**I would love to hear your thoughts/reviews. **

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John stood up and couldn't get to his mother quickly enough. "Are you alright?". His eyes were full of concern for his mother, adrenaline pumping through every inch of his being. He had no idea where this explosion of courage came from. All he knew was that he saw his mother being threatened and could not allow it to continue. No person could treat her like that, not even his father.

Mrs Thornton let out a quick smile in response to her son's concern. Of course she was alright. She had no choice but to be alright. She would certainly not carry on the drama as the argument itself was of little consequence. It was the subject matter that was causing her anxiety. Specifically, it was the manner in which her husband had been conducting business. He had been investing in schemes left right and centre. Throwing money at them like it was in endless supply. While a few of the said schemes had been successful, the vast majority had resulted in a loss. Mr Thornton was too proud to admit the extent of the loss let alone accept any responsibility or be questioned about his decision making.

She looked down at her chivalrous son. Oh how he looked like his father with his striking blue eyes, thankfully his temperament was quite different. She guided him towards the door with her hand placed on his back. "You must go to bed now John". While she was grateful that her son had stepped in, she wanted to ensure that she protected him by getting him out of her husband's sight as quickly as possible.

As she walked John towards the door she momentarily turned back to see an intoxicated Mr Thornton struggling to get up. She let out a disapproving tut and continued to walk out. As she passed the butler in the hallway she stopped to provide direction "Nelson, Mr Thornton is in need of your assistance in the drawing room. He may also require your assistance to get to his chambers".

She knew Nelson would handle Mr Thornton in that state. Nelson had worked for the Thornton family for many years and had known Mr Thornton for most of his life. He was the only servant that Mr Thornton had ever shown any slight regard for.

Nelson made haste through the door to see Mr Thornton on the ground. "Master, let me be of assistance". Nelson looked down upon Mr Thornton as he struggled to get up and put out his hand to help him up. "No thank you Nelson, I am quite capable of getting up". Mr Thornton was a very proud man and did not enjoy accepting help, even when it was obvious that he really needed it. Mr Thornton staggered onto his feet by himself and quickly straightened his slightly dishevelled clothing.

He was in a degree of shock over what had just transpired. He had lost his temper with his wife, when she was accusing him of being reckless with investments. She was an infuriating woman. What would she know? She was just a woman with no experience in business other than what he had taught her. All it seemed she knew was how to be critical of him. In his mind he was completely justified in his actions towards her, as, after all, he was the head of the family and should be respected as such.

In all truthfulness, Mr Thornton was not a happy man. He enjoyed whiskey because it made the world move slowly and he was able to disconnect from his reality.

"Nelson, fetch me a glass of whiskey". Mr Thornton's voice was slightly slurred. Nelson looked disapprovingly at his master but obliged his wishes never the less. Mr Thornton moved to the other room and sat in his chair by the fire. He held the glass of whiskey and swirled it around in the glass. He stared intently in the red abyss of the fire.

He replayed the arguement in his head and was shocked at the manner in which his son had behaved. He had no idea how to manage his son's obvious disrespect for authority. John was sent away to boarding school to ensure that he received the best education that money could buy. Clearly his respect for authority needed greater attention!

Mr Thornton sipped his whiskey and enjoyed its warmth radiate down his throat and into his body.

While he was furious at his son's disrespect, there was a very small part of him that was happy his son had at least shown some spirit. He had always been a quiet child and seemed to enjoy his mother's company too much for a young boy. Mr Thornton was concerned that her female ways would rub off and make him weak. Truthfully, this was the first sign of strength he had ever seen from him.

He continued to sip his whiskey and contemplated what he would do to his son in the morning. After thinking about it for some time he decided that this disrespect needed to be met with ample strength. Young John would have to face the consequences of such insolence. It was for his own good. It would make him stronger in the long run.

As he stared into the fire, content with this course of action, Mr Thornton drifted off to sleep with the empty glass still in his hand.


	4. Chapter 4 - Punishment

**Prequel – A young John Thornton**

**Chapter 4**

**I would love to hear your thoughts/reviews. **

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That night that followed was particularly cold. The unrelenting gusts of wind outside seemed to make the entire house rattle under its constant barrage. John lay in his bed wide awake listening to the creaking and rattling of the windows. The fire in the fireplace was almost out. The remaining embers cast a red glow throughout the room. John looked around his room from the safety of his bed, his head half covered by his sheets. The shadows that were cast on the walls looked particularly menacing. At boarding school he hated that there was rarely any privacy, yet in this moment, alone in his room, he wished he had company. Silently he watched the shadows surrounded by the red glow from the embers and listened to the creaks and rattles throughout the house.

John was covered by what seemed like a million blankets, yet he still felt cold to the bone. Perhaps it was because he was still reeling from the events that had transpired that night, perhaps it was because it was his first night at home, but John had an uneasy feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach.

Meanwhile Mrs Thornton lay in her bed struggling to stay awake. It was like the argument with her husband had stolen what little energy she had remaining. After all, Fanny was a boisterous baby and required much time and energy to remain pacified. With Mrs Thornton's eyes feeling heavy, she lay completely still, just listening intently for the sound of her husband entering his chambers. It was not unusual for her husband to fall asleep in his chair in the drawing-room. However this was a night were it would have eased her mind to know where he was. She would have even preferred to share a bed with him this night. While she would be somewhat repulsed at his presence and stench of whiskey, at least her mind would be at ease. She knew that he would not have the stamina to attempt to discipline John at such a late hour, still, there was an uneasy feeling that just would not retreat.

The night slowly passed, with the wild weather outside contributing to the restless sleep of the family. That is except for Mr Thornton, who was fast asleep in his chair.

As it were, the morning was rather uneventful with Mr Thornton isolating himself from his family. The household ran as usual with Mrs Thornton attending to Fanny who on this day was just was not happy unless she was being held. John was deliberately keeping out of the way and decided to play with his train set in his room quietly. Both Mrs Thornton and John were waiting for repercussions of last night's incident.

They had exchanged knowing looks at the dining table during breakfast. From just a look, John knew that his mother was grateful that he had stepped in last night, yet he also could tell that she wanted him to keep a low profile today. Mrs Thornton could see the concern written over John's face but thought it best not to involve him any further in matters that were best handled by adults. Yet despite all that had occurred the night before, nothing was openly addressed.

When Mr Thornton was not travelling he spent a lot of time sitting in his office in solitude. It was a grand room with beautifully crafted mahogany furniture, a high ceiling and mahogany wooden beams which ran along the length of the ceiling.

Mr Thornton sat in his chair, hands over his head shielding his eyes from the light, trying to alleviate the throbbing headache from his indulgences the night before. He was in no mood to conduct business but as it were he had just received a letter from his business partner in London. The enclosed document required his co-signature and detailed the nature of a new investment. Mr Thornton did not read the detail of the document and instead just signed the document and sent it away with Nelson to be posted. Mr Thornton recklessly dismissed the detail of the document as if he were too wealthy to worry about such matters.

His mind turned to the events from the night before. Deciding to deal with John's behavior with a demonstration of strength he marched upstairs with purpose towards John's room.

He stood silently in the doorway of John's room for some time watching his first born. Oblivious to his father's presence John quietly played with his toy trains on the ground. It did strike Mr Thornton how similar the two of them were with the same eyes, same nose, same colour of hair. Although his stringy build must have come from his mother's side he thought. It was true that Mr Thornton did not know how to really talk to his son. He was good at giving commands and instructions but that was about it. Abruptly Mr Thornton cleared his throat as way of letting John know of his presence.

John turned his head quickly to see who was at the door and his eyes widened when he saw it was his father. "Good morning father" he said swallowing several times as he cautiously looked up at the overbearing man in the doorway.

With Mr Thornton's mind now free from the whiskey which had been clouding his judgment the night before he saw the events for what they were. John was trying to protect his mother and while he did not appreciate the disrespect that John showed, he did appreciate the courage that it would have taken to act in such a situation. Never the less, his pride told him that the boy needed to be punished, he could not allow his authority to be questioned.

"Son, either you apologise for last night or you shall receive the strap". John stared directly into his father's eyes as he stood up. John did not quite reach his father's shoulder in height and in no way did he match him in build, yet once again John found inner strength.

"I will not apologise, beat me black and blue for all I care, I will not apologise". John stood defiantly, arms folded, looking up at his father.

Mr Thornton stared down at his son. He could feel his temper starting to boil.

"Very well then son, you asked for this".

With a thin leather strap in his right hand Mr Thornton commanded John to face the other way.

John turned away from his father and faced the window outside. His eyes started to well up in anticipation for the pain that was to come. He clenched his fists and closed his eyes as tightly as he could while holding his breath. He tried to stay as still as possible, but his legs started to tremble ever so slightly in anticipation.

With John facing the other way, Mr Thornton could see that John's shorts exposed older bruises and lesions on his lower leg that he could only assume had been received in the name of discipline at school. Mr Thornton raised his right arm slowly ready to strike his son, and as quickly as his strong arm came thundering down, he made a split second decision and diverted the strap's path and missed John's legs by mere millimeters. Instead with a sharp crack the strap hit the wooden floor boards.

John opened his eyes with a start. The strap had come so close that he could feel it as it passed his leg.

He heard a single footstep behind him and could just tell that his father was standing mere inches behind. Mr Thornton leant down and spoke with gritted teeth in a deep slow voice.

"This is your first and only warning. You will never question my authority again".

And with that, as abruptly as Mr Thornton had entered the room, Mr Thornton stormed out leaving a bewildered young John Thornton wondering what had just happened.


	5. Chapter 5 - When Grey Turns to Black

**Prequel – A young John Thornton**

**Chapter 5 **

**I would love to hear your thoughts/reviews. I am finding this section of the story quite difficult to write because it is rather dark in places. Please stick with me. **

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A few weeks passed without incident and there was no further explanation as to why John had not been punished that day. John continued his existence at home with caution. His days were spent playing quietly with his favourite train set and collection of marbles. He did not touch a book because he knew he would be back at school soon enough. In the past he would have shadowed his mother around the house however now there was baby Fanny to compete with he didn't bother. For such a small person, Fanny seemed to engulf so much of his mother's time and energy. He was definitely jealous of this annoying pink screaming smelly creature that seemed to have taken over his mother's life and affections over the past year.

Meanwhile Mrs Thornton had tried to confront her husband about their fight and the incident that followed but to no avail. His answers were short and without depth. His blue eyes vacant and his mind obviously preoccupied elsewhere. Mr Thornton was not himself at all. Mrs Thornton would have preferred to engage in a screaming match over the nothingness from him. It was becoming too much to endure. In the past there was never love, but there was always informative conversation and an element of partnership and comradery. Now she was met with nothingness.

This behaviour was different and for the first time in memory, she was genuinely concerned for her husband's well being. The only time Mr Thornton seemed to soften and be present was when he held his precious daughter in his arms. Fanny was a beautiful baby with golden curls, bright blue eyes and a cheeky smile that could warm even the coldest heart. However even baby Fanny was only able to alleviate Mr Thornton's mindset temporarily.

Mr Thornton was indeed withdrawn. His days were spent in his office and evenings were by himself in the drawing room with Nelson attending to his endless thirst for strong liquor. The truth was that his business partnership had dissolved not long after the fight between himself and his wife. His business partner had been dishonest and swindled him. This resulted in the loss of a considerable amount of money. He had not confided in anyone about this. He didn't have the words. He feared that if he uttered them out loud that they would then be undeniable and he would be forced to accept it as reality. However beneath the denial, deep down, his troubles seemed insurmountable. His internal turmoil was like an unrelenting storm that churned in his gut and painted everything around him a shade of miserable grey.

This particular day was no different to the past few weeks. It was mid-afternoon and Mrs Thornton decided that she needed to venture out of the house and go to the drapers as her sewing supplies were running low. She left baby Fanny and John at home with the maids while she ventured out.

As per norm Mr Thornton was in his office. He was sitting quietly almost in a trance when he was interrupted by Nelson who knocked at the door before entering.

"Sir a letter had just arrived for you".

Mr Thornton looked up at Nelson and gestured for the letter without a word.

Nelson carefully placed the envelope in front of Mr Thornton and made his exit from the room leaving the door open.

Mr Thornton picked up the letter and noted that the red seal at the back of the envelope was that of Brighton Bank. His senses were immediately awakened by the unsettling sight of the seal. A bank never writes with good news he thought to himself as he swiftly opened the envelope and unfolded the singular piece of paper inside. His breathing started to quicken and become heavier, his pulse increased and his heart beated loudly in his chest. As he read the letter his hands started to tremble and his eyes widened. By this point there was sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach which only increased with every word that he read.

_Dear Mr Thornton_

_I am writing to formally notify you that due to multiple defaults in the repayment of your loan, Brighton Bank has commenced the formal proceedings of foreclosure._

_Brighton Bank has frozen access to any money held within this institution in your name and will seek to use these funds to recover the monies owed. Furthermore your assets may be seized and sold to recover any remaining money owed. _

_Yours sincerely_

_Stanley Fitzgerald_

_Manager__  
Brighton Bank_

Mr Thornton dropped the letter and just stared into space. Reality hit him like a freight train. He felt like he was trapped. Like he was being buried alive, unable to breath, completely helpless. How could this happen to him? The humiliation! How could he escape the disgrace? He was a complete failure. How would he continue to exist? How could he ever look anyone in the eye again? How could he look himself in the eye? His life was worthless.

His eyes grew dark, completely detached from everything and everyone that ever meant anything to him. They grey in his mind's eye was turning black with no room for compromise. Almost robotically he stood up and walked towards the door. The floor boards squeaked with every foot step. He shut the door, giving himself one last gift of privacy.


	6. Chapter 6- Things Will Never Be The Same

A Young John Thornton Part 6 

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Author's Note: I found this chapter really difficult to write. I would really appreciate all comments.

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John was playing quietly in his room when he heard a peculiar noise from his father's office down the hall. It was the sound of something drop to the ground followed by a strange muffled sound. The noise disturbed him for reasons he did not understand and was no longer interested in his trains. He tried to ignore his thoughts but he kept wondering what in the world that noise could have been. Against his better judgement John decided to investigate.

John stood up and moved with caution up the hallway. The floor boards creaked as he approached the ominous door to his father's office. Never before had it seemed so intimidating. He stood within an inch of the closed door wondering what he had just heard minutes before. He put his ear to the door for a few moments, straining to make out any sounds from the other side however there was nothing but deafening silence. Perhaps he imagined that noise he thought to himself momentarily. He instantly discredited his doubts. He knew that he had heard something. After all, one cannot imagine something that gives you chills up your spine.

He was unsure whether to open the door, however curiosity eventually took over and he decided to open it wide enough to see what the noise was. After all, if he did not disturb his father, what would the harm be?

He placed is hand on the door knob and turned it with slow precision, trying to avoid making any sound. He opened the door just wide enough to peek through with one eye. He was expecting to see his father's unimpressed face at his desk, ready to scold him or worse…

He peered through the door with one eye to view a narrow section of the room. Minimal light was entering the room because the thick curtainhad been drawn. John struggled to see much in the darkened room. John thought this was rather unusual that the curtains were drawn. Courage aided him to gently push the door open another inch. That extra inch showed what looked like a wooden chair that appeared to have fallen on its side.

John stood completely still. His senses were telling him that something was very wrong. There was a dreaded feeling in the pit of his stomach. The hairs on his arms and neck were standing on end. He shivered. He was breathing short shallow breaths and the normally cold crisp air seemed to be thick and heavy on his lungs.

He nudged the door and it squeaked open slowly. As his eyes slowly started to adjust to the darkness of the room John was left horrified. There was a motionless figure that was not where it should be. He was not able to identify who it was or what they were doing. John squinted and was suddenly in complete shock and disbelief by what the darkness was revealing to him. His father was hanging motionless from the wooden rafter with a rope around his neck. Head cocked to the side, an expressionless face that was not a natural colour.

John tried to scream but nothing came out for the first few seconds. "h….. h….. h…". He gasped for air and was able to let out a deafening scream for help. John was terrified and in complete shock. Panic took over and all the blood had drained from his face as he stood motionless just staring into the room. He had no idea what to do. Nelson came rushing up the hallway toward John. As he got closer to John he saw the horrendous sight that had caused such distress. With no hesitation Nelson rushed past John into the room and attempted to free his Master from his own design.

John stood helpless at the doorway watching the scene unfold as if it were in slow motion. After much commotion from the female servants, one of the male servants came into the room and assisted Nelson in freeing his father's neck from the rope and manoeuvring him onto the ground.

"The boy, remove the boy" John heard a panicked high pitched voice call from behind him.

Out of nowhere two of the female servants tried to drag John away. John resisted. He kicked, he screamed, he cried. He just knew that his father was dead and he didn't want to leave him. He didn't want to believe this nightmare could be real. That it could be happening.

Even while being dragged forcibly down the hallway away from the haunting scene, all he could see in his minds eye was his father's lifeless body on the ground, the blank expression on his face, his father's eyes still open and the colour of red, a small trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth.

He knew that things would never be the same.


	7. Chapter 7 -Strength From Within

Chapter 7

Please read and review.

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Smothered by a suffocating fog of despair, young John was in his room. One of the maids Beth stayed by his side. She rubbed his back trying to comfort the young man as he lay face down on the bed crying. At first they were loud unrelenting tears, and eventually, they softened to slow tears and heartbreaking sobs. His head remained buried in the pillow that had been drenched with tears. He was unwilling to raise his head for fear of having to acknowledge that this was not a nightmare.

Time itself had been distorted and John had no concept of how long he had been in his room.

Why did his father do this? Was he a bad son? Did his father not love him? Why?

The disturbing silhouette of his father hanging kept flashing through his mind, closely followed by the image of the look on his face as he lay dead on the ground, blood coming from his mouth.

All of a sudden his attention was drawn to what was happening outside his room. He could hear sets of footsteps walking back and forth along the hallway. They were surrounded by low toned whispers. The door to his room opened and a maid walked in cradling young Fanny in her arms. Beth instinctively stood up and took charge of the infant, returning to her place next to John's bed. She had one arm settling Fanny and the other rubbing John's back.

"There there young master" She said softly, unsure what else she really could say.

John, who was still face down, slowly turned his head to be met by an intent gaze of his little sister's blue eyes. John paused. It was as if it was the first time that he had really seen her. He was filled with an urge to protect her from this world. It was a feeling that he had never had before. He sat up, puffy eyed. His normally clear blue eyes were surrounded by red bloodshot vessels and looked up at Beth who also had been crying. He passed Beth handkerchief that had been in his pocket.

She let out a sigh taking the handkerchief and quickly wiped away her tears.

"Such kindness at such a time" She looked down at the boy adoringly

"John Thornton, you are going to be a great man someday".

John shrugged and gestured at Fanny "Can I hold her please?" He asked earnestly. Truthfully it was the first time he had ever initiated contact with Fanny. Previously he had always seen her as an annoying thing that had intruded on his life.

"Of course you can". Beth responded and carefully placed Fanny in John's arms. At first he was uncomfortable and ridged in his frame, but after a few moments his shoulders relaxed as he held her close to his chest. He looked down at her lovingly and Fanny mirrored her brother's gaze.

"She is quite taken with you Master".

John sniffed and allowed the smallest of smiles to resonate on his face. He leant down and whispered "I promise that I shall never let anything bad happen to you…. I swear it… I swear on everything, you will always be safe Fanny".

Then all of a sudden he heard a voice that he recognised. It was his mother. He could hear hurried footsteps and someone telling her not to go into the room. He could then hear her argue with them "I will not be told where I can and cannot go in my own house" She said with a raised voice. Then there was deafening silence which was closely followed by the worst sound of all. It was a sound that was somewhere between the despair of a howl and the insane cry of a banshee. The sound ricocheted throughout the entire house, sending a spine chilling shockwave into every room.

John stood up from the bed. He knew exactly what he had to do. He gently passed Fanny to Beth, giving his sister a quick kiss on the forehead. He then walked purposely and opened the door, walking towards the room in question. The hallway was lined with nervous servants unsure of what they should be doing at such a time. He walked in between them all and without hesitation into the room. He leant down to his mother who was grief-stricken and kneeling on the ground, face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably. The letter from the bank lay on the ground, torn in two. His father's body which had since been covered by a white sheet was just to the left.

John put his hand on his mother's shoulder. It was if he had had been filled with a strength that he never knew existed. While everything was raw yet numb at the same time, he was determined to be strong for his family.

"Everything is going to be okay mother".


	8. Chapter 8 - The Aftermath

The Aftermath

Hi all. Sorry it has taken me so long to update this story! I hope you are satisfied with its conclusion.

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John rubbed his hungry aching stomach as he trudged down the narrow pathway through Milton.

To say it his life had changed after his father's suicide was an understatement. Where there was once an abundance of food, there was a single loaf of bread to last a whole week. Where there was a cosy bed, there was a hessian sack on the ground with a single blanket on top which lay next to the single bed that his mother and baby sister shared. Where there was once affluence and respect in society there was stigma, pity, awkward avoidance, or plain rude behaviour. They belonged nowhere. People who had once been friends had turned their backs on them. People who they were now living amongst ridiculed and judged them all based on their previous position and the circumstances surrounding the family's fall from grace.

This was a time when suicide was viewed in many respects as being worse than the act of murder. Not only was it considered immoral, it was illegal. If suicide was determined to be the cause of death, all property belonging to the individual automatically reverted to the Crown. In this case, there was no argument that Mr Thornton had taken his own life and the Thornton family were thrown into immediate poverty.

If that wasn't enough, suicide also held the stigma of insanity and mental illness. This stigma was worn by family and blood relatives as such conditions were deemed to be inherited. Young John was not only faced with poverty, but any prospect of a successful future was automatically tainted by questions around his mental state.

Truth be told, even John questioned his mental state. Some things in life can never be unseen. Three months had passed since his father's death and John still had vivid flashbacks reliving the whole ordeal. Every night the image of his father's hanging body replayed in his mind relentlessly over and over again, faster and faster, until he woke up in a cold sweat.

He had vivid memories from the last few weeks of walking with his mother and sister through the streets and hearing whispers, even wagering on when he get sick and suffer the same fate has his father.

That is the cruel reality that John had come to realise.

The Thornton family had almost immediately been kicked out of their house and lost all possessions but the clothes they had on their backs. Mrs Thornton had, in the past, been a good customer to the local draper, Mr Ridgeway. It was Mr Ridgeway who took pity on the destitute family and was the only person in the whole of Milton to offer any assistance to the once prosperous family. He himself was a simple man and did not have a lot to offer. He allowed Mrs Thornton to rent at a single room at the back of his modest house at a cheap rate. In exchange, she was to provide assistance around the house, cook meals and assist in some sewing work for the drapers shop at night. Of course Mrs Thornton was limited in what she was able to do given she had such a young daughter.

John was immediately thrust into being the head of the family and breadwinner. It was a heavy burden, but one that he took on with strength that surpassed his years.

Again, Mr Ridgeway had been generous and offered John a job at his shop as a junior assistant. John worked from dawn to dusk, and when he arrived home he immediately took over the care of Fanny so his mother could start work on the sewing that Mr Ridgeway had brought for her to do through the night. It had only been little under three months and they already worked like a well-oiled machine.

Mrs Thornton barely slept as she did her best to earn money at home with the sewing, while John worked throughout the day. Her work ethic was exceptional and John was almost forced to keep up or surpass it. At first this was a challenge, but as time went on, the strong work ethic was became second nature.

John continued to walk down the narrow pathway towards the drapers shop. He thought back to his prosperous existence that already seemed like a lifetime ago. He wished that he could continue his education one day. He longed to read, he longed to learn. John quietly laughed to himself at the irony of it all. When he had all the opportunities before him he couldn't care less, yet now he was stripped of everything there is nothing he wouldn't give to attend school.

After what seemed like a long walk to work, full of self-reflection, John finally arrived at the drapers. He unlocked the back door and proceeded to place his mother's sewing work in the back room, ensuring each order was complete and writing up an appropriate invoice for when the customer arrived. Once he did that, he ensured that all the fabric was displayed correctly and that there were no shortages of stock. While managing the stock, John stopped to look a large ream of cotton and just stared. A sudden curiosity came over him.

Upon that thought, Mr Ridgeway walked into the building.

"Good morning John".

"Good morning sir" John replied politely.

Mr Ridgeway studied John's face, he had never seen him look so engaged in a piece of fabric before.

"Do tell me boy, why are you staring at that fabric like that?"

John looked up at him, with a thoughtful expression. Mr Ridgeway could almost see the clogs turning behind John's eyes.

"Please tell me Mr Ridgeway, how does one manufacture cotton?".


	9. Authors Note

**Authors note: **

**I just wanted to thank those of you who have enjoyed this story. I definitely underestimated how challenging it would be to write (especially the darker moments). **

**I believe that the story is now complete. In my mind, it is the final moments of this story that brings the tale of the young boy, the grieving son and the man that John will one day become together. **

**Again, thank you for sticking with me. **


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